


merry christmas, bitch

by DrabblingSparks (ingenious_spark)



Series: Saint Seiya prompts & short fic [170]
Category: Saint Seiya
Genre: Alcohol, Christmas, Drabble, Friendship, Gen, Long Live Feedback Comment Project, Prompt Fic, antagonistic friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-14 16:53:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18480388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ingenious_spark/pseuds/DrabblingSparks
Summary: Shura's not planning on doing anything for Christmas. Deathmask has other plans.





	merry christmas, bitch

**Author's Note:**

> From a batch of prompts I did over on my tumblr, [@oopsbirdficced](http://oopsbirdficced.tumblr.com). This was previously posted in a drabble collection 'Saint Seiya: Snapshots’, that I have chosen to take down and post individually for ease of access. 
> 
> Original author's note: Mephisto is the name I use for Deathmask! Also, my Deathmask is short, because canonical heights are made of bullshit. Fight me.  
> (Originally posted 12-16-2017)

Mephisto breezed into the Capricorn living quarters after Shura gave him permission, dropping a large, heavy sack directly on his stomach where he was stretched out on the couch, theoretically watching a football match. Shura wheezed, winded.

“What the fuck, Mephisto, you ass.” He coughed.

“Ho ho ho, bitch.” Mephisto said, deadpan, from where he was perched, almost like a vulture, on the back of the sofa. Shura had no idea how he was keeping his balance. Then again, he really wasn’t sure how Mephisto worked in general, someone that short should not contain the sheer levels of sass and rage that Mephisto carried.

Shura eyed the sack resting on his stomach with a healthy amount of trepidation.

“It isn’t something living that’s going to bite my face off, right?” He checked. Mephisto rolled his red eyes expressively.

“Dumbass, if I was gonna give you a living thing for the express purpose of biting off your face, I’d clearly give it to you in a box, not a bag.” He explained condescendingly. Shura was not comforted, but he did open the bag, sitting up a bit.

Frowning, he drew out six bottles of nice Italian wine, several Tupperware boxes of different cookies and fudge, a bottle of limoncello, and a bottle of sambuca.

“Did you buy out some sort of alcohol store?” He asked dryly, opening a container that declared itself rum-walnut fudge. “Also please tell me you remembered my peanut allergy.”

“I did, I did. Buckle up, buttercup. We’re getting shitfaced for Christmas. And eating our weight in sweets. And then, if you’re very lucky, I’ll drag you down to Cancer and feed you a proper dinner.” Mephisto slid bonelessly to sit beside Shura, grinning slyly. Shura rolled his eyes at the casual display of the Cancer Saint’s ludicrous flexibility.

“Fine.” He rolled his eyes. It was thoughtful of Mephisto- he’d been unable to get time off to go see his family in Spain, so Mephisto was, in his own way, keeping him company. Mephisto poked him in the thigh with his toes.

“Go make some coffee, bitch.”

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the LLF Comment Project, which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
>   * Comments not in English
> 

> 
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End file.
